How Bellatrix Lestrange died
by HasEveryPenNameBeenTaken
Summary: In which Neville kills Bellatrix Lestrange.
1. The nightmare

**READ. THIS. FIRST.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Jo.**

**Serious disclaimer in case a lawyer sees this: I am not Joan Kathleen Rowling. I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I do not in any way make profit from this story. Mkay?**

**In this story, Neville kills Bellatrix Lestrange. For real. The first chapter is just the prologue. There will be a full story, ending at the battle of Hogwarts. I wrote it because I always wanted him to get to avenge his parents. As for plausibility... well, you'll just have to read and see for yourself.**

**Bella seems to act terribly OOC at the beginning. Don't freak out. It gets explained.**

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><p>The woman was at his mercy. She was lying on the floor before him, disarmed and helpless. Her face was pale, her hair disheveled; a thin stream of blood was running from her lips. Her eyes had lost their fire. All her taunting was over; all her defiance was lost, along with her will to fight; not only had she lost, her spirit was completely broken. Neville felt a sense of triumph coming over him. As he approached her, wand raised, he saw that she was trying to say something. He looked straight into her eyes as one looks at a broken foe. Her lips moved. Her voice was weak.<p>

-Mercy, she croaked.

He could hardly believe his ears.

-What?

-Mercy, she repeated.

He felt the blood rush into his brain.

-Did you show mercy to my parents? he roared. Did you feel a bit of compassion when they were screaming with pain? Did you ever consider stopping when my mother begged you to stop?

He raised his wand.

-And when afterwards you thought of their baby, did you for a moment feel a bit of remorse?

He pointed his wand at her.

-Crucio!

She screamed. Her body danced to the movements of his wand, completely limp and helpless.

-Crucio! he repeated, like a madman. The image of a woman in a nightgown, offering him a piece of gum wrapper as a token of her love, was filling his brain.

-Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!

Screams shattered the night. Neville opened his eyes. He was sitting on his bed, dressed in his pyjamas, breathing heavily.

Seamus spoke to him from the next bed.

-Mate, what's wrong with you?

Neville took some moments to compose his voice.

-Nothing. It was nothing. It was just a dream. Just a dream, he repeated, trying to convince himself more than Seamus.

Seamus groaned and lied back to bed. Neville hesitated a little, and then decided to ask:

-Seamus- did I say anything?

-The weirdest things. Something about babies, and then it sounded as if you were cruciating someone. Or someone was cruciating you, couldn't tell which. Your nerves are in a horrible state, mate.

There was a short silence.

-Can't say I blame you, though, continued Seamus. Death Eaters running the school, a war going on. Just yesterday, a first-year was tortured…

-Did I say anything else? Neville interrupted him.

-Well, I think you did. Why, yes. Now that I think of it- in your dream, I think, someone was asking for mercy.

Neville looked away.

-Neville- who was it? asked Seamus in a lower voice, after a few moments.

Neville hesitated a little, and then decided to reply:

-Bellatrix Lestrange.

Seamus whistled.

-Dude, he said. No way. She makes people plead, she doesn't do it herself. Never. This is Bellatrix Lestrange we're talking about. She'd rather drink poison, or let herself be buried alive…

-I know, Neville interrupted him. It was just a stupid dream, Seamus.

He rubbed his forehead; he was feeling a headache coming.

-Well, you'd better go back to sleep, mate, Seamus told him. Try to forget about it.

-I guess so. Thanks. You go back to sleep, and I'll do so as well- in a minute.

Seamus followed his advice. Neville waited until he was fast asleep. Then he took a photograph from his drawer. He looked at it for some minutes in silence.

-She's the woman who tortured you, mum, he finally said. I'm not like her. I'm not like her, he repeated, but this time his voice cracked.

Sometimes, the inner workings of his own mind scared him. He had phantasies, dreams. The roles reversed, his parents' torturer screaming in his feet for mercy. For the first time, a sense of absolute power. A sort of twisted pleasure and an endless replay of the scene, trapped in his own hartred, never finding relief, never being able to stop.

He put the photo back in the drawer. Then he remained wide awake in the same position until the sky was grey with the arrival of the following morning.

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><p><strong>Meh. I thought more people wanted Neville to avenge his parents.<strong>

**Anyway, many thanks to jhuikmn08 for reviewing, and I'll keep this going anyway, I think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, guys. Sorry about keeping you waiting.**

**This is from Neville's POV.**

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><p>Slept terribly. Got up with a headache. Can't remember what I was dreaming of last night. Must have been pretty repulsive, a mountain troll, Umbridge, something like that. Felt sleep-deprived all morning. I was nervous and irritable in classes; I barely talked to anyone, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of DA practice same evening. They've been the saving of my life, these practices.<p>

Right after lunch, I headed off to the Room of Requirement. We- that is, the Dumbledore's Army- were very careful about our meetings. We went to the room one or two at a time at reasonable time lapses. We didn't want to be discovered. With the Carrows in charge of discipline, inspection for any suspicious activity had increased to ridiculous levels. (According to the Carrows, "suspicious activity" meant "happy people doing creative things.") Anyone who disobeyed was given detention, which was the new euphemism for the Cruciatus Curse. However, nothing of that actually stopped suspicious activity. The Dumbledore's Army was still there, and growing fast.

As I was walking, I heard a girl cry. I stopped and turned around. She was about fifteen feet away. She must have been a first- or second-year at most. She was sitting pathetically at the base of a staircase like a beautiful downtrodden violet, with a bunch of boys and girls her age around her, trying to console her. All this was none of my business, and I was late.

I approached. She didn't appear to notice me, which was reasonable since she was too busy crying her eyes out. I began to catch some phrases from their conversation.

"What am I going to do?" she asked.

"Don't cry", a friend of hers replied, quite unhelpfully. "We'll think of something."

"Y-you don't understand… she's sick…" (here she was interrupted by a torrent of sobs and hiccups.) "I h-have to see her a-and… I'll b-break out of the school, if I have to!"

"You wouldn't dare", said the girl who was sitting next to her. "They'd skin you alive."

"I don't care!"

"Keep your voice down!" said a chubby little boy, trembling all over. "Do you want us to be… to be… given detentions?"

His argument proved quite impressive, because they all started talking in whispers. The next thing I heard was:

"No."

"But…"

"No way."

"He's right. I don't think the older students would help us. They have other things to do. Besides, it's risky."

"_He_ would help us. I know he would. He went to the Ministry with Harry Potter and fought off Death Eaters, don't you tell me he'd be scared off by a couple of losers like the Carrows."

"Keep your voice down", hissed the chubby boy.

"He's leading a secret movement", the other boy continued. "Did you know that? It's all over the school. Everyone can join, even first years. They teach you all kinds of important stuff- how to protect yourself, and everything. And he's organizing it all. He's a _genius_, I tell you. I bet you he'll help us. I'll bet you he'll set everything right. Come on, you guys, it's Neville Longbottom!"

The boy looked around, his eyes shining in hopeful expectation, as if he had made some unbeatable argument and thought everybody must be persuaded by it. What really worried me, though, was that nobody told him to shut up. No, they looked like they were actually considering what he said, as if they thought he had made a valid point. Their faces, dejected at first, looked hopeful now.

What a load of nonsense.

-Who's going to ask him, though?

I thought this was a good time to appear. I made a few steps forward and coughed.

They all jumped. It was quite funny.

"Hi, Neville", muttered the boy who had been saying I was the best thing since sliced bread.

"Hi." I looked at the girl. She looked back at me with her large, teary eyes. Excellent. I felt extremely clumsy and inadequate, but still I approached and squatted by her side.

"What's the matter?" I asked in what I hoped was a sensitive, understanding tone.

"My mum is sick. She's in St. Mungo's. At first they thought it wasn't anything serious but now they've begun to fear the worst. She asked to see me, and I want to see her too, more than anything. It could be the last…" She stopped herself. "But to get out of school, I need…"

"You need permission", I said.

"Yes", she said. "I need permission both from Professor Snape and…"

"And the Carrows. I see." I thought a little. "Have you asked Professor Snape? He might be able to persuade… them."

She nodded in the negative. "I'm afraid to ask Professor Snape."

"Understandable", I muttered.

"What are we going to do?"

I stayed silent. I knew what we _could_ do; I simply had to convince myself it wasn't an entirely stupid idea.

After some meditation, I told them to get up and follow me.

"Where are we going?" the girl asked.

"We are going to get you out of the school", I replied.

"We're going to use a secret passage?" asked an overexcited boy with freckles. "I've heard about them. The students used to talk of people who knew about them, the Weasley twins in particular. We never met the Weasley twins, but we've heard of them. It's like a fable. But noone seems to know where the secret passages are now."

"We are most definitely not going to use a secret passage", I said. "We are not heading to the only one that's in use right now. It does not start at the Room of Requirement, and you did not learn this information from me."

I reached the door and thought _I need to talk to whoever is in there_. I opened the door and I found Seamus and a girl. They both looked back at me and they weren't happy.

"Sorry", I muttered. "I- we had practice."

"The others are going to be a bit late", said Seamus. "So I thought I'd- How did you come in? I particularly asked the room to be private for the next half hour or so."

"It seems you didn't do a very good job", I replied. "Anyway, tell the others I can't come at all today. Something came up. I need to use the passage to Hogsmeade."

He cast a curious look at the first-years. Normally, he would ask what this was all about, but now he was anxious to get rid of me, so all he said was "alright".

I showed the girl the door and let her get in first. I told everyone else to return to their regular activities try not to do anything stupid. If asked where their friend was, they should say they didn't know. Me and the girl walked until we reached the exit, which was at Hog's Head bar. We were quite the sight there (underage, sober) so I got the girl out of there as soon as I could. From Hogsmeade I disapparated us to St. Mungo's. I knew the location very well, because I had been there many times. Her family, although in great distress, was overwhelmed with joy to see her. I left her with them and, since I was there, I used the spare time I had for an affair of my own.

It was very late when we returned; almost night. She didn't want to leave her mother. I had a feeling we'd be in trouble, but she didn't care. The worst part was that she kept thanking me, and I had to hear it- there was no escape from it, we were together in a tunnel. Meanwhile, my bad feeling about getting in trouble was getting worse and worse. When we finally reached school, I saw her to her common room, and was incredibly relieved when nothing happened. Then I headed off to mine. I was in the middle of the way when something blocked my path. I stood completely immobile. My breath stopped, and I knew I had been right. My bad feeling was finally justified. This was trouble.

It was the Carrows.

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><p><strong>So, what did you think?<strong>

**It's difficult to write a long story without some feedback, so if you liked this (or, heck, if you didn't) I'd appreciate it if you pressed the review button and let me know.**


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